The Dursley Witch
by ariasolo
Summary: When the Dursley’s have a kid, who would expect she was a witch? *New Chapter! The Sorting Bowler!*
1. Attack of the Giant Crab

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, although I wish I did.  
  
A/N: This takes place in the very, very far HP future, probably after Harry graduates, and eleven or so years after that. All actual book history events go from Sorcerer's Stone to Order of the Phoenix.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter One  
  
Attack of the Giant Crabs  
  
~*~  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Privet Drive were proud to say they were still normal, thank you very much. Even though their son, Dudley, had moved away (and gratefully their burden Harry), they still had one child to raise. Her name was Amelia Brianna Courtney Dursley, her initials being A.B.C.D, and was their newest pride and joy. Next month, she would be attending a prestigious boarding school in Venice, Italy, not on a scholarship, but by full tuition. That made Mr. Dursley very proud of that, for he could say that he could support his whole family, even though he was retired. Today was a special night, for tonight their grown-up son, Dudley was coming for a visit.  
  
Dudley was a bit short, due to the weight problem he had when he was younger and it stopped his growth. Then, he had slowly lost fat, until he was entirely healthy. But, on the mantelpiece there were still pictures of him on his first bike ride, playing on the computer, and newer pictures of him graduating and working out. Along with that were pictures of Amelia, but no pictures other than that.  
  
"He's here, he's here!" Mrs. Dursley said cheerily. Amelia sighed, she simply hated Dudley, and he was so . . . so . . . obnoxious. "Amelia, dearest, open the door."  
  
Amelia rolled her eyes and tugged on the ridiculous puffy bright pink dress Mrs. Dursley had forced onto her, she hated it. Sometimes, Amelia wished she were far away from them . . . maybe in the air. Far up in the air, on a broomstick . . . no, a bird. A big, giant bird that could bite the rest of the Dursley's heads off. Sighing, she pulled open the door, and with a tiny shriek she was engulfed in the middle of a family hug.  
  
Dudley was hugging her so hard, she could've sworn her circulation was cut off. But she knew she had lost any source of air when Mr. and Mrs. Dursley surrounded her on either side, spit dripping on her head from all of Mrs. Dursley's big kisses she kept planting on Dudley's forehead.  
  
"Oh, I've missed you so much Duddykins!" Mrs. Dursley gushed, planting more kisses on him.  
  
"Mum!" Dudley said. "Mum, get off!" Mrs. Dursley looked hurt, but pulled away anyway. "Hello, little sister," he said, patting Amelia on the head and squashing her hair. "You've grown so much!" and pulling her into another hug and squashed a one hundred pound note into her hand. "Not a word to Mum," he whispered in her ear. Then, he turned to Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, "So we're up to dinner, right?"  
  
"Oh, yes," Mr. Dursley said. "Top restaurant, newly opened," and opening the door again, they headed out side.  
  
~*~  
  
"Name?" the hostess, asked when they had reached the restaurant.  
  
"Dursley," Mr. Dursley said.  
  
"Party of four?" she asked again.  
  
"Yes," Mr. Dursley said.  
  
"Top seats tonight, sir," she said, grabbing some menus and walking them to a tiny dinner table with four seats. "Here are your menus, if you need any help just ring," she pointed at the bell on one end of the table, and walked away.  
  
"Beautiful!" Mrs. Dursley gushed. Above them, the ceiling was entirely glass, just one pane. "I just love the view."  
  
Amelia looked up at the starlit sky for a few seconds then became absorbed in the menu, scanning it for anything that was in English. Unlike the rest of the Dursley family, she hadn't bothered to learn any second language, while the rest had learned French. The menu looked entirely French, too.  
  
"I'll be having the crab," Dudley announced.  
  
"Where's the crab?" Amelia asked, there was no four-letter word that started with C on the whole list.  
  
"There," Dudley said, and pointed at some word, and Amelia hoped that was crab. She seriously needed to take French.  
  
"Oh, yeah," Amelia said. "I'll have that too." The family ordered their food, and started talking quietly while it was prepared.  
  
"Amelia," Dudley said. "How are your grades?"  
  
"Good," Amelia said, shrugging.  
  
"And are the boys treating you alright? That Sean fellow still bothering you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
Amelia felt her anger rise. Sean was her best friend, and Dudley thought it was unacceptable to have a boy as a friend. "No," Amelia said, although she wished to punch Dudley's face.  
  
"Good," Dudley said, grinning. "Don't want anybody hurting my sister," he patted her on the back. Her anger rose higher, the only person hurting her was him. He patted with so much force; Amelia was sure there were going to be bruises.  
  
"Your food," the waiter said, bringing up four platters with tops. Amelia wished that when Dudley opened his platter, that there wasn't a delicious cooked crab, but a big, huge, completely alive crab that bites.  
  
"Delicious," Dudley said his eyes glowing, and rubbing his hands together. He greedily pulled the top off, and was greeted by . . . a big, huge, completely alive crab, that started to try and bite him.  
  
Amelia almost shrieked louder than Dudley, but quieted herself in time. She wasn't screaming from horror, but from surprise. Her wish had just come true . . . just like magic. Dudley jumped out of his seat, as the crab grew somehow bigger. The crab was growing about an inch a second; soon towering over Dudley's pudgy figure. Now the restaurant had gone into chaos, the other diners quickly noticing and jumping out of their seats. In shock, Amelia stood in her place while crowds rushed by her, and Dudley grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the door. The glass ceiling broke above, and Amelia saw . . . an owl. It was carrying a letter attached to its leg, and flew dead low, dropping the letter on Amelia's head. Before Amelia pocketed the letter, she scanned the address. Which read:  
  
Amelia Dursley The French Restaurant Little Whinging Surrey  
  
Amelia's eyes widened. How could an owl . . . an actual live owl give her mail? She would find out after Dudley left that night, none of the other Dursleys enjoyed hearing about owls, broomsticks, giant crabs, and any thing that couldn't be explained.  
  
~*~  
  
"G-Goodbye, Mum," Dudley said quickly when they got home. He quickly kissed Mrs. Dursley and Amelia on the forehead, then shook Mr. Dursley's hand. He was trembling quite much, and in a few minutes his car was already out the driveway and far away.  
  
"What a shock," Mrs. Dursley said, fanning herself. "I don't believe we shall be going there again, Vernon. I'll go to sleep now," and she headed up stairs, Amelia following behind her. Amelia changed out of the dress into her pajamas, and when she heard Mr. Dursley snoring, she quickly ripped open the letter.  
  
There was an extremely weird heading, which Amelia decided to skip and headed to the actual letter.  
  
'Dear Miss Dursley,  
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
Term begins 1 September we await your owl no earlier than 31 July.  
Yours sincerely,  
Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress'  
  
Amelia's eyes widened. This was one sick joke . . . or was it real? It obviously explained about the crab . . . magic was the only way. Amelia was about to scream for her parents, this was seriously freaking her out, but Mr. Dursley got to her room first.  
  
He was very red faced, and was holding a letter in his hand. "WHAT IS THIS?" he roared, and passed the letter to Amelia.  
  
'Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley,  
We would like to inform you that your daughter, Amelia Dursley, released a great bout of magic this evening at 7:32 PM. There will be no punishment, for this happens to all young witches and wizards. We would like to advise you though, to keep your daughter's magic under control until she goes to Hogwarts. If you cannot do this, she will be put under the care of a capable witch or wizard until term starts at Hogwarts. If you would like her to be put under such care, please owl immediately.  
Sincerely,  
The Ministry of Magic'  
  
Then, as soon as Amelia finished reading, an snowy white owl flew in and landed on top of Amelia's drawer. Mr. Dursley grabbed a pen, and scrawled on the back of the letter, 'Take her.' The owl grabbed the letter and flew out Amelia's window.  
  
"What's happening?" Amelia asked Mr. Dursley.  
  
"You are not my daughter anymore," Mr. Dursley said. "Just another fool."  
  
"Huh?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Just . . . shut up."  
  
There were a few minutes of eerie silence, exempt Mrs. Dursley's sobs. Mr. Dursley had begun pacing, and Amelia curled her finger around one of her wavy blonde locks. Then, the doorbell rang. All three Dursleys headed downstairs, Mrs. Dursley opening the door. Standing there, in a dark blue robe was a young man. He had circular rimmed wire glasses, bright green eyes, and a mop of messy black hair. A thin lightning shaped scar was against his forehead.  
  
"I'm here for Amelia Dursley," he said. Amelia stepped forward, staring at the man in awe. "You can gather your things first," he said, grinning politely. Sensing no ease at all, he shook her hand, "I'm Harry," he said.  
  
"She doesn't have anything," Mr. Dursley grunted. "Just . . . take her."  
  
"Well . . ." Harry trailed off. "Nice seeing you guys again, but seriously . . . I wouldn't go abandoning children, especially in their pajamas."  
  
"GO!" Mr. Dursley roared, and Amelia ran out the door in fright, Mr. Dursley slamming the door.  
  
"You can call me Uncle Harry, I guess," Harry said to Amelia.  
  
"Uncle?"  
  
"Well actually, I'm your cousin."  
  
"Then how come I've never seen you?" Amelia asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"The Dursleys - they sort of . . . hate me," Harry said. "Now, we have to go, unless you want to stand her forever in your pajamas."  
  
"Oh, right, like I'm going to believe that," Amelia said, and began to walk down the street.  
  
"Wait!" Harry said. He pulled out a long stick of wood - Amelia believed it was a wand - and suddenly a triple decker bus appeared in front of them. It was labeled 'The Knight Bus'.  
  
~*~ End of Chapter One ~*~ 


	2. If At First You Don't Succeed Try, Try A...

A/N: WARNING: ORDER OF THE PHOENIX SPOILERS!!!!  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter Two  
  
If At First You Don't Succeed Try, Try Again  
  
~*~  
  
"You'll be able to handle her, right?" Stan Stunpike asked Harry, with Amelia Dursley's limp body in his arms. They were in front of the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry had given her a rather large drought of a sleeping potion.  
  
"I'm sure," Harry said. "She's just a bit freaked out, I mean she found out she was a witch, and her family kicked her out."  
  
"Well, you take care," Stan said.  
  
"Okay, bye," Harry said. "I would wave - but I really can't right now."  
  
"It's okay," Ernie said, closing the doors of the Knight Bus and driving away. Harry pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron.  
  
"Harry!" Tom said cheerily, he was cleaning up, "What's with the girl?"  
  
"Muggles kicked her out when they found out she was a witch," Harry said. "Listen, Tom, can you put some Floo in my hand?"  
  
"Is that the girl who set the giant crab?" Tom asked, his eyes widening. He was waving a newspaper furiously in his hand. "I heard it tore all over . . . say, are you taking her to Azkaban?"  
  
"Just give me the Floo, Tom," Harry said, and Tom reached into a jar above the fire, putting some in his hand.  
  
"Potter - Weasely Residence!" Harry said, tossing the powder into the fire and stepping in.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry landed with a thud, Amelia's body rolling on the ground. He got off, put on his glasses, and did a quick cleaning spell.  
  
"Daddy!" a little skinny girl with long black braids yelled, "Daddy!" She was in bright pink pajamas holding a tiny doll, tears falling down her face.  
  
"What is it, babe?" he asked, scooping her up in his lap.  
  
"Uncle Ron said a giant crab attacked!" she said. "And it scared me so much daddy! There were pictures in the 'Evening' Prophet too!" Ron was standing at the edge of the stairs, waving meekly.  
  
"Well, daddy stopped the giant crab," Harry said to his daughter. "So you haven't anything to worry about now."  
  
Instead of thanking him, the little girl jumped out of his lap and crossed her arms, "Mr. Daddy Potter!" she said in a mocking tone, which he could have only related to Professor McGonagall's (although she had never met her). "Don't you ever go fighting giant crabs again!" and she stormed out stairs.  
  
"I told you not to tell her," Harry said to Ron, turning on the lights with a flick of his wand. "Now Molly's going to be awake all night, having bad dreams about giant crabs!"  
  
"It wasn't my fault," Ron said, running a hand through his messy red hair. "She climbed up right on me, right before Hermione and I were about to go to bed. I was reading the Evening Prophet then she crawls into my lap and goes, 'ooh, Uncle Ron, what's that?' and points at the giant crab. And who is that?" he asked, pointing at Amelia. "She's not dead, right?"  
  
"Of course not!" Harry said. "This is Amelia."  
  
"The one who sent the giant crab in the first place?" Ron said. "Well, don't blame me, blame her! Oh, wait . . . you mean . . . Amelia Dursley, don't you? The Muggles' Amelia? Who, may I point out again, sent the giant crab out in the first place. Can Muggles do that? I mean, sending giant crabs everywhere?" Harry stared at him straight in the eye. "Oh," Ron said. "I see, she's a witch."  
  
"Duh," Harry said blandly.  
  
"Then why is she here?"  
  
"The Dursley's . . . kicked her out," Harry said. "I was supposed to take her to the Ministry, but she was in her pajamas, and quite freaked at that, so I decided to take her tomorrow."  
  
"Great plan Harry," Ron said. " Just bloody great, Sparrow's gonna be all over you. Now, did you tell the Ministry this?"  
  
"I really don't need to," Harry said. "They just said 'Bring her to the Ministry as soon as possible' and it's not possible when she is scared out of her bloody wits!"  
  
"Good point," Ron said.  
  
"Ron!" a voice called from upstairs. "What're you doing down there?"  
  
"Duty calls," Ron said. "And a very happy duty at that," then he ran up stairs.  
  
"Winky!" Harry called, stepping into the kitchen. Her and Dobby had moved in after Harry graduated, becoming their household servants.  
  
"Dobby is here, Master Potter," Dobby said, bowing low. Harry raised an eyebrow, it was Dobby's day off.  
  
"Dobby . . . weren't you out?" Harry asked.  
  
"Dobby thought to go to Diagon Alley, and buy several new clothes for the baby," Dobby said. Winky had become pregnant. "Dobby has bought many socks, but Winky says Dobby must buy other clothes. Then, right before Dobby is to leave, Winky calls. Her stomach is hurting very much, Master Potter. So Dobby skipped his day out, to stay in!" Dobby stopped at this point, looking up at Harry's face. "Oh, do not worry Master Potter, Winky is not having the baby yet. Winky is sleeping, Master Potter, Master Potter must be quiet."  
  
Harry nodded, "Dobby," he said in a low whisper. "Could you fix a guest room?"  
  
"Of course," Dobby said bowing, and walking up the stairs.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry sat alone at breakfast that day. Molly had decided to sleep in, and Ron and Hermione had also chosen so. Or at least wake up late, because a very sleepy, yet happy looking Ron came down a few minutes later, wearing only pants and had a shirt slung over his shoulder. He sat down, buttoning up the shirt. Harry hadn't seen Ron like this since a few months ago, when Ron and Hermione had come back from their honeymoon.  
  
::Flashback to a few months ago::  
  
It was night in the Potter - Weasely house, and all was quiet, almost. Harry was sound asleep, thanks to a Silencing Spell, but not little Molly Potter, who lay wide awake, wondering where the screaming could be coming from. Her Aunt Hermione was screaming, rather viciously, followed by her Uncle Ron. They weren't yelling any words as far as she had heard, just screaming. They didn't seem like scared screams, and there was much loud panting, and the occasional bang on the walls.  
  
"Hermione!" Ron yelled, and after several loud crashes and bangs, Hermione was laughing and screaming at the same time. More crashes and bangs could be heard. Disgruntled and wishing for sleep, Molly pushed open her bedroom door and headed to her Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione's room. She pushed the door open, and there was the most gruesome sight she had ever seen. Not that she had barley seen any, being five.  
  
Then, instead of either Ron or Hermione screaming, in fact, they didn't even notice her. It was Molly who started shrieking in terror. She ran down the hallway to her daddy's room, jumping on his bed.  
  
"Daddy! Daddy!" she screamed.  
  
"What is it?" Harry asked, the spell wearing off.  
  
"I'm scared," Molly said, crawling into Harry's bed. "Goodnight."  
  
The next morning, Ron came in for breakfast late, looking rather sleepy but very happy.  
  
"That," he said. "Was the best night of my whole life."  
  
Harry nodded, "I noticed."  
  
"I can't wait for tonight," Ron said, digging into his food.  
  
"Was it that good?" Harry asked.  
  
"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again," Ron said.  
  
::End of Flashback::  
  
"Let me guess," Harry said. "If at first you don't succeed, try again?"  
  
Ron was grinning wildly, "We made it," he said.  
  
"Well, compliments on that," Harry said. "You guys kept the noise level down, didn't hear a thing."  
  
"Practice makes perfect," Ron said. "Hermione's still in bed, think she got knocked out, that one did."  
  
"Hmm," Harry said. The two ate in silence, until there was a very loud, girly shriek from up stairs. Ron and Harry rushed up stairs to find out it had been from the guestroom, coming from Amelia.  
  
"WHERE THE HELL AM I?" she roared, screaming more. Ron walked over and placed a hand over her mouth the muffle the sound.  
  
"Can you just put a bloody Memory Spell on her?" Ron scowled.  
  
"Hello?" somebody called from downstairs. "Harry?"  
  
"Orlando Sparrow," Harry said. Orlando was the temporary Minister of Magic, until they elected a new one. Harry himself was up, and was thinking he would get the position too.  
  
"We're up here!" Harry yelled.  
  
"Daddy!" Molly squealed, running in and hugging his leg. "There's a scary man downstairs!"  
  
"Hello," Orlando said. His appearance was quite scary, with short shaved light blonde hair, and a long curly blonde goatee. He had thin eyes, like slits, and the pupils inside, although nobody saw them, were a red-brown, almost like blood. "Well, well," Orlando said, tapping his foot. He surveyed the room.  
  
Amelia had a terror-stricken look on her face, Ron's hands pressed firmly against her mouth. Harry had a look of loathing on his face, and Molly was practically climbing up his leg, her face buried in his pants.  
  
"Harry," he said icily, his tongue as sharp as a knife, Molly letting out a little whimper. "Who's the munchkin on your leg?"  
  
"This is Molly, my daughter," Harry said, picking Molly up. "Molly, say hi to Mr. Sparrow."  
  
"Hello Mr. Sparrow," Molly whimpered.  
  
"Aren't you a little cutie?" Sparrow said, and he pulled out a lollipop, which Molly took. "From Mr. Sparrow." Then he patted her head, making her hair messier than before. "That she attend Hogwarts as scheduled," Dumbledore said.  
  
"Ow!" Ron said, jumping from Amelia and shaking his hand. "She bit me!"  
  
"Yes, the girl," Sparrow said. "The Ministry says she must come immediately for testing."  
  
"Testing?" Ron asked.  
  
Sparrow sighed, "Testing, Ron. They have found children with much wandless power and they wish to study them. Now, if you'll let me stun her, I'll be on my way . . ." he pulled out his wand, and suddenly, the wand turned to rubber, running away from him. "See? This is the power the Ministry must control."  
  
"Then I'll take her myself," Harry said.  
  
"I'll come back in an hour," Sparrow said, "You don't happen to have a way to Apparate here, right?"  
  
"The only way is Floo and the door," Harry said again, through gritted teeth.  
  
"I'll take Floo then," Sparrow said, and he headed downstairs, then said, "Ministry of Magic!" and was off.  
  
"He scared me," Molly whimpered, burying her head into Harry's chest.  
  
"You wanna come to work with me?" Harry said, kissing her forehead.  
  
"Yes," Molly whispered. "I'm scared." Amelia was staring at everybody, her eyes wide open.  
  
"A-are y-you kidnappers?" she asked.  
  
"Of course not!" Ron said.  
  
"Didn't I say I was your cousin?" Harry asked.  
  
"Y-yes," Amelia said meekly. "B-but I've never s-s-seen you, a-and M-Mum and D-D-Dad never t-talk a-a-about y-you."  
  
"You want proof?" Harry asked. He dug out of his pocket a picture. "There."  
  
"T-that's me," Amelia said, fingering the picture.  
  
"Of course," Harry said.  
  
"And t-t-that's y-y-you?" she pointed at the younger Harry holding her.  
  
"Yes," Harry said. "At King's Cross, day I left Hogwarts. It was supposed to be moving, but some of those pictures, they don't turn out right."  
  
"Hogwarts?" Amelia asked.  
  
"You haven't read the letter yet, have you?" Harry said.  
  
"Oh, n-no, I've read the letter," Amelia said. "I just thought it was a joke."  
  
"Well, it isn't," Harry said. "Get ready, we're leaving in," he checked his watch ". . . Fifty minutes." They started to file out of the room, "Um . . . hello?" Amelia said. "I haven't any clothes to change in."  
  
"Right," Harry said, and ran out, coming back in with a pair of jeans, a blouse, a pair of sneakers (trainers for all of you in England), and a gold and red jumper (sweaters to all of you in America) with a funny-looking crest. "Bathroom's to your left."  
  
They filed out, and Amelia headed to the bathroom. It seemed a private bathroom, because there were no other doors except from her room. The bathtub resembled a Jacuzzi, with several little taps in different shapes and colors. She turned a light blue tap carved like a flower and several flower scented bubbles came out, with a mix of flower petals. Turning that one off, she turned a white cloudy colored one, in the shape of a horse - or a unicorn, she couldn't tell. A frothy cold mix of bubbles came, in the scent of root beer.  
  
Amelia tried the next tap, a dark purple star. Out came several balloon- sized bubbles, strong enough to support her. The light green tap in the shape of a cube released tiny cube-shaped bubbles, each one the size of a dice. Trying one more tap before she got in, she tried to turn a transparent swirl-shaped tap, which squeaked, 'Wrong way!'  
  
Shocked, Amelia pushed the tap down, and the whole bathtub began to swirl and churn like a hot tub, she got in, letting the water spin her around. It was very relaxing, the scents floating up her nose. When she felt like that was long enough, Amelia got out, and pulled the transparent tap up, and everything stopped, the bubbles quickly disappearing. She dressed in the clothes, which surprisingly fit her exactly. When she walked out the bathroom door, her hair dried automatically. Amelia was beginning to like this place. She wrapped the jumper (sweater) around her waist, going down the stairs.  
  
"Daddy! Daddy!" Molly said. "Can you French braid my hair again?"  
  
"No," Harry said. "Your Auntie Hermione is the only one who knows how to do that, and she's not...available right now to do that."  
  
"Can I go ask?" she said.  
  
"No," Harry said. "Hermione needs her rest."  
  
"Aw, okay," Molly said sadly. "I'm ready to go."  
  
"Amelia!" Harry called. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Yeah," Amelia said, who had been standing in the doorway the whole time, and was excellent at French braiding.  
  
"Okay," Harry said. They headed out to the Muggle Ministry car, which Harry drove to London, and they stopped in an alleyway with a broken telephone. Squeezing inside, Harry dialed a series of number.  
  
"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic visitor's entrance," a young female voice said. "Please state your name and business."  
  
"Harry Potter erm . . . Auror, Molly Potter is coming to work with her dad, and Amelia Dursley is here for a . . . magical testing."  
  
"Visitors please put the badge on," the female voice said and two badges came through the slot where money was usually kept.  
  
Molly's badge said MOLLY POTTER, AUROR DAUGHTER, while Amelia's badge said AMELIA DURSLEY, MAGICAL TESTING.  
  
"Please be informed that your wands will be checked and screened at security," the female voice said as the telephone booth began to go down. "Have a nice day!" it said.  
  
"That was different," Harry commented as they stepped in the lift. "Then again, I haven't gone through that entrance since . . . I was fifteen." He pressed the button for the new floor six; labeled MAGICAL TESTINGS (these include wandless testing, Apparating tests, ministry tests, sanity tests, and O.W.L and N.E.W.T grading).  
  
"Mr. Potter, Miss Potter, and Miss Dursley, what a pleasure," and standing there was Draco Malfoy, with his usual sneer. "I believe Miss Dursley is here for testing?"  
  
~*~ End of Chapter Two ~*~  
  
Big thanks for reviewing: Yoshi-fan2003 (you rock!), The Dark Magician People (you rock too, are you more than one person? Because if you're not you should be the person. Just wondering), Mystical Witch (You also get the reward for rocking.)  
  
A/N: Anybody wanna be my BETA reader? Leave a review if you want to! 


	3. Hermione's Scar

A/N: To: Mystical Witch (you get a response at the beginning at the chappie). Molly's mom will not be explained until *scans files* Chapter Five. And, to everybody, GET ALL YOUR FRIENDS TO GIVE REVIEWS! BUTTERED TOAST FOR ALL! This is a somewhat short chapter, and probably the worst one I've wrote so far, so bear with me.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter Three  
  
Hermione's Scar  
  
~*~  
  
Despite Harry's protests, Draco took her for examination, and there was nothing Harry could do about it. He dragged in a tiny glass box, which from that he produced several thin strings, which he stuck onto Amelia.  
  
When the wires hooked up Amelia found out weren't really solid at all, but strings of - there was no other word for it - magic. There were thirteen wires in all, one below each knee, ankle, wrist, elbow, shoulder, collarbone, back of her neck, and the small of her back.  
  
"I'll see you in a while," Draco said. "Don't get up, if you need anything, ring the bell," he said, and pointed at the bell next to the bed. "I'm talking to Potter," and he tapped the box with his wand and left.  
  
At first, Amelia hadn't felt anything, just a tiny vibration. Then, a jolt spread through her all a once, sending pain right through her. It was like somebody had started jamming knives into her, running them around in her skin. Amelia wasn't one for endurance, and she passed out, letting everything flow throughout her.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry hadn't enjoyed letting Amelia go with Draco, even if the Ministry had said so. So, when Draco had come out of the office, Harry jumped straight up.  
  
"Sit down, Potter," Draco said. "Your - cousin, right? - is fine."  
  
"As in?" Harry asked.  
  
"She's being tested right now," Draco said.  
  
"How?" Harry asked again.  
  
"Do you have to ask everything, Potter? It's easy, all you do is send a charge of magic, and if they pass out, they have too much magic. If they're normal, they're normal," Draco said.  
  
"What if she passed out right now?"  
  
"Then she obviously has too much magic in her, which is when the Ministry becomes interested," Draco said, shrugging.  
  
"Go check, right now," Harry said.  
  
"What?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'll check when I want to."  
  
"Go check," Harry said, a little angry.  
  
Draco checked his watch, "Five minutes."  
  
Then, another Healer quickly tapped Draco on the back, "Excuse me, Dr. Malfoy," she said.  
  
"What?" Draco asked.  
  
"I would just like to tell you that your patient went unconscious."  
  
~*~  
  
"Get up," Draco was shaking Amelia's shoulder.  
  
"W-what?" Amelia asked groggily.  
  
"Get up," Draco said.  
  
"What are they doing here?" she yelled, pointing at the group of wizards around her. They all looked extremely stern, one being Sparrow, except for a very old wizard in the corner with a long white silver beard and long blue robes. Amelia felt her face turn red, had they been watching her in her sleep?  
  
"They're the Ministry of Magic," Draco said, who had a half-smirk half- sneer on his face. He seemed to be enjoying this very much. "They're here to discuss your . . . your . . . magic."  
  
"Why can't they wait?" Amelia said rather loudly.  
  
"Because the Ministry of Magic is on a strict timetable," Draco said. Then leaned in and whispered something in her ear, "So shut up and listen." Pouting, Amelia crossed her arms.  
  
"I think the girl should be confiscated," Sparrow said.  
  
"May I remind you, Mr. Sparrow, that even if you lock the girl up, she can break out," another wizard said.  
  
"So what do you think we should do?" another person asked.  
  
"Lock her up in Gringotts, of course," the wizard, said.  
  
"And kill her? Certainly the public would find out that a person is locked in Gringotts. Anyway, do you think Gringotts allow people in accounts?" a witch asked.  
  
"Of course they do," Sparrow said icily.  
  
"Then locking her up is certainly out of the question," another witch said.  
  
"A Dementor's Kiss would work," Sparrow said.  
  
"Perform the kiss on a child?" a wizard cut in. "I think not."  
  
"May I make a suggestion?" the old man with a long beard said. His twinkling eyes just made Amelia smile.  
  
"Yes Dumbledore?" Sparrow said.  
  
"That she attend Hogwarts as scheduled," Dumbledore said, although he didn't seem very kind, and Amelia could've sworn that he had a bit of a sneer on his face.  
  
"Dumbledore," a wizard said. "We're not immortal like you, and you don't know what this child could do, she could harm the children. Do you know what could happen if Death Eaters took her?"  
  
"It's amazing how much one child can do," Dumbledore said. "I believe Amelia is can completely control her power, and an environment of other magical peoples her age. Well, with a little help from the most powerful adult wandless witch of this century." But, he still had a sneer on his face that made Amelia think he was mad at her.  
  
"You don't mean . . .?" Sparrow said.  
  
"Of course I mean Hermione Granger," Dumbledore said.  
  
~*~  
  
::Flashback to Hermione, Harry, and Ron's 7th Year::  
  
"Professor Lupin!" Hermione said, rolling his lifeless body over. His skin was pale, a long silvery object pressed straight through his chest. Next to him was Harry, though alive, his scar had reopened, blood pouring down his face.  
  
"He's dead," Harry moaned, his eyes closed. "Lupin's dead."  
  
"I'm here!" Ron announced. "Where is he? Where is that evil murderer? Let me have him, right now!"  
  
"Ron, shut up!" Hermione hissed. "He's down the tunnel . . . hit Harry and Lupin . . . "  
  
"You haven't gone down there yet?" Ron asked.  
  
"Harry told me to stay here," Hermione said. "For a second wave Cassidy's down the tunnel . . . fighting off Death Eaters."  
  
"What happened to Harry's scar?" Ron asked.  
  
"I'll tell you later," and Hermione, her wand held tight walked down the tunnel. Ron followed her, their shadows flickering among the torched wall.  
  
"A mere Muggle born," they could hear Voldemort chortle as they came in. He looked like his normal self, Tom Riddle. "And one tainted by her. Crucio!"  
  
The beam hit Hermione, and immediately she screamed in the pain. It was as if a dozen knifes were digging into her skin, ripping, tearing. Everything was a blur around her; all she could see was the pain. Ron was frantically yelling spells that were just mere sounds in her ear. Then came Voldemort's scream, and a bang as Ron hit the wall. Instantly, all the pain was gone.  
  
Voldemort lay lifeless, now a dead human. His figure was pressed against a giant silver rune, his blood smeared across it. Ron was opposite of him, his blood against the same silver rune. Hermione looked down; she was upon a gold rune, yet the same design as the silver ones.  
  
The runes began to turn, sucking up the blood, growing brightly. They became each a ray of light, Voldemort's being black, Ron's being white. The lights snaked down the intricate cracks, meeting in the middle of the rune between Hermione's hands. It was a bright, silver light that climbed up her arms.  
  
It was power. The darkest of all powers being Voldemort's, the best power being Ron's. Even though there were people stronger than Ron, people better than him, greater than him, but nothing was better than his pure heart. The heart of somebody Hermione wanted to be with forever, the heart she could never win without using a love potion. She had been so evil, using that love potion to have him, for just that night. Voldemort was right, she had tainted him.  
  
But she couldn't stop the power from enveloping her, giving her access to anything. The silvery sheet remained for a few seconds, then sucked into her skin. She could feel everything, the earth, the air, and the people who were alive around her. Ron wasn't one of them, he had been killed.  
  
Walking over to his body, she cradled his form in her arms. She could do anything with this magic, perhaps bring him back to life? But nothing, anything could bring him back to life, Dumbledore had said so. Then again, nobody had as much power she had then; at least she thought so.  
  
Settling on it, Hermione felt her nerves tense up. She was about to do something only in fairytales, bring some one back with a kiss. Leaning down, she pressed her lips against his, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back. She didn't understand, how this could be the worst moment of her life, but still the best. Hermione didn't want to break away the kiss; she wanted it to stay, forever.  
  
Even if above the ground everybody was dying from the Death Eaters, even though Lupin was dead, even though Ron was probably dead, she only wanted the kiss to go forever. But, in the end it never worked. Ron was still gone, gone for her.  
  
Tears began to fall violently down her eyes. "Why me?" she asked to no one in particular. "Just bring him back! Bring Ron back!" she cried, collapsing to the ground. "Why?" she muttered, "Why . . . why me?"  
  
"Hermione?" a familiar voice asked.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione said, looking up. She pressed a kiss to his lips, feeling her face turn red. Ron was flabbergasted just staring there when she broke away.  
  
"You have a . . . " he trailed off, tracing something on Hermione's forehead. She brought her hand up and there was a mark on her forehead . . . a cut.  
  
"Scar."  
  
::End of Flashback::  
  
~*~ End of Chapter Three ~*~  
  
A/N: That is my ending to the 7th book there, people because JKR said the last word was 'scar' in the 7th book.  
  
Big Thanks for reviewing: Mystical Witch (your answer is at the top of the chapter thanx.), MerlinHalliwell (inpatient one, aren't you? thanx.), Yoshi- fan2003 (thanx. super-rocker reviewer!)  
  
A/N (again): Any suggestions? Put 'em on your review. 


	4. The Lonely Girl

A/N: This is one of the very weird chapters that also might suck at points, but if you think its cool, then I'm obviously too hard on myself.  
  
Chapter Four  
  
The Lonely Girl  
  
~*~  
  
Over the next few weeks, Amelia created a very fast much more fatherly bond with Harry than with any adult she had known before. She considered Molly like a little sister, as Molly considered Amelia a new sister. Amelia had also grown very attached to Hermione, who had been training her in wandless magic.  
  
It was the night before Hermione and Amelia went to Hogwarts and the night before Harry and Ron left on a special mission for the Ministry. That in the end was leaving Molly all alone, so she would be coming with Hermione and Amelia. This night was special because several important and famous people would be coming over, and most luckily none of them were Sparrow.  
  
Tonight was a special night, because the Potter - Weasely House was having their annual costume party. Some of the people that were invited were the top Aurors of the Ministry (including Harry and Ron who, obviously lived there and would be attending), famous Quidditch players, old school friends, neighbors, ambassadors from other countries. The Potter - Weasely House was the place to be that night, and everybody knew it.  
  
Molly was busy getting ready upstairs; very annoyed with the fact that nobody would French braid her hair. Ron and Harry were hiding in the kitchens, trying to hide their costumes until the party started. They had both hinted that they would have the best costumes, much better than the last year's winner, Melinda Mullendrum, the Keeper for the Ireland Quidditch team (she had worn a very distinctive costume matching that of a house-elf). Even Hermione was keeping her costume secret.  
  
"Amelia!" Molly cried, banging on her door. "Can you French braid my hair?"  
  
"Yeah," Amelia said, putting on the black silk, black jeweled covered cloak as her finishing touch and slipping a dark red chain on. "Come in!" Amelia was looking in the mirror with her cloak fully around her when Molly stepped in so she couldn't see her costume.  
  
"Ooh," Molly said. "Pretty cloak. Is that your costume?"  
  
"Part of it," Amelia said, turning around and taking off the cloak. The reaction was not as she expected, as Molly began to scream in a high- pitched shrill voice. Amelia had dressed up as a Devil.  
  
"Daddy!" she screamed, and ran out.  
  
Shrugging, Amelia went back to the mirror. "Needs more makeup," she told herself.  
  
~*~  
  
"Now remember," Harry said, kneeling down to Molly's eye level right before they started to let guests in. "Everybody here is good, Molly. Nobody is how they look, and that's how it's supposed to be."  
  
"Like you?" Molly asked in her little angel costume (complete with French braids).  
  
"Yeah," Harry said. He and Ron had dressed up as two giant crabs. "I would hug you, but my pincers might ruin your pretty costume," he apologized. "Did you pick that out all by yourself?"  
  
"Dobby helped me," Molly said. "He says that I look pretty in it."  
  
"And you do," Harry said. "And remember . . ."  
  
"Everybody who is here is good," Molly said.  
  
"And?"  
  
" . . . But, if anybody tries to hurt me or take me away, scream louder than I did when I saw Amelia's costume," Molly said.  
  
"Where is 'Mione?" Ron said, checking his cunningly disguised watch.  
  
"She said she wanted to make an entrance," Amelia said. She had improved her look very much, which included fake piercings and much more elaborate hair. But, she had kept her cloak on, complete with the hood.  
  
"You look like a Dementor," Ron scoffed, blind to Amelia's comment.  
  
"What's that?" Amelia asked, who was still oblivious to much of the wizarding world.  
  
"Never mind," Ron said. He checked his watch again, "Where is Hermione?"  
  
"She said she wanted to make an entrance," Amelia said again in Ron's ear.  
  
"Oh," Ron said.  
  
~*~  
  
The guests, seventy-five in all were seated around the ridiculously long table in the ridiculously magically enchanted dining room that used to be a tiny table that seated eight. True to her word, Hermione had made an entrance.  
  
The guests had been lounging around, chatting, when a fanfare played. "Attention!" a voice said from somewhere. "Now presenting, Mrs. Hermione Weasely!" But, Hermione was no where to be seen. "Please turn your attention to the stairs," the voice added, and they looked towards the stairs.  
  
But, still no Hermione came. Instead, down came Orlando Sparrow, with a ridiculous, elaborate long dark green dress robe. Sparrow had several giant rings on his fingers, a long, jeweled cane and on top of his head . . . a crown.  
  
"Where is she?" Ron asked Harry.  
  
"I have no idea," Harry said. "Who invited Sparrow?"  
  
"I don't know," Ron said. "But he's not supposed to be here, and now I have a reason to beat the hell outta him."  
  
"Wait!" Harry said, grabbing Ron's arm. "Ron, do you think Sparrow is . . . Hermione?"  
  
"Bloody hell," Ron said. "She is, Harry. 'Mione is Sparrow, can't believe I married her. That's my wife Harry. My wife is dressed up as the complete opposite of her. Hell, she's a guy."  
  
"Can't you see?" Harry asked Ron. "She's making a fool of him, what a genius."  
  
"Ha!" Ron said. "My wife is a genius!"  
  
~*~  
  
After dinner, which consisted of 32 different dishes of macaroni and cheese, as they were trying to make the party as different as possible. The magically expanded ballroom was decorated with cats. Not normal house cats, but statues of cougars, a painting of a sphinx that stretched across one wall, and two house-trained cougars brought from the Minister of Magic from South Africa prowled around. Ron was relieved that after dinner, Hermione had shed the Sparrow costume and was now dressed up as a very feminine looking dragon. Several wax figures and statues of anything resembling a cat were scattered along the floor, on the walls, and even on the ceiling.  
  
Mostly everybody was having a good time, with the exception of Molly. Parties were no fun for her, everybody would dance and make jokes that weren't funny at all, and when they talked to Molly all they did was ruffle her hair and say she was cute. She headed to the kitchen, where the twenty house-elves were bustling around.  
  
"Dobby!" Molly said, standing in the doorway.  
  
"Yes, Miss Potter?" Dobby said, who was carrying a broom and dustpan. "Oh, Miss Potter, Dobby must say Miss Potter is very beautiful. What is Miss Potter wanting?"  
  
"Can I have an orange?" Molly asked. Another thing she dreaded about parties was the food, although she had enjoyed the macaroni and cheese.  
  
"Of course," Dobby said. There was a tiny, high-pitched squeak after a few seconds. Dobby came back with an orange and hurriedly placed it in Molly's hand. There was another high-pitched squeak. "Dobby is very sorry to leave Miss Potter, but Winky is in pain, Miss Potter. Winky is having a hurting stomach again."  
  
"You know Dobby, maybe you should ask Daddy if you can take Winky to the doctor's, or at least get her checked," Molly said.  
  
"Oh no!" Dobby said. "Miss Potter mustn't say that! House elves are forbidden to go to the doctor's! We are forbidden!"  
  
"Oh," Molly commented as Dobby shooed her out of the kitchen.  
  
Molly dug her nails into the skin of the orange, walking as far as she could from the ballroom. Then, she noticed a door on her left. Even though Molly was five, she knew the giant house perfectly, and knew there was no door usually there. Curious, she pushed open the door.  
  
Inside was a sleek black corridor. There were several tapestries on the walls of very gory scenes that no five-year-old should see. Molly squeaked in horror, her nails digging further into the orange.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
Molly jumped around, looking at a new hallway that had just appeared there. At the end was a little girl in a rocking chair, surrounded by a nursery filled with toys. She had ink black hair, and shiny blue eyes.  
  
"I-I'm Molly," Molly said.  
  
"Will you play with me?" she asked, tugging on her long pink nightgown.  
  
"O-okay," Molly said, walking down the corridor. "What's your name?"  
  
"I haven't one," she said sadly, picking up a doll and stroking its hair.  
  
"Everybody has a name, silly," Molly said, sitting on the chair opposite of her.  
  
"I never had one," she said. "My parents never had the time. Do you have parents?"  
  
"Oh, yes, of course I have parents," Molly said, setting the orange on the nightstand. "How did you get here?"  
  
She shrugged again. "I was always here."  
  
"Me too," Molly said. "This is my house. I live here, but you don't," she said thinking aloud.  
  
"Have you seen your parents?"  
  
"Yes, my father at the least," Molly said.  
  
"What about your mother?" the girl asked a little urgently. "I need to know about your mother."  
  
"She died," Molly said.  
  
"Well then how can you live here forever?" the girl asked.  
  
"What do you mean?" Molly said. "It doesn't matter where my mother is."  
  
"You have to tell me about your mother," the girl said, tugging on Molly's dress. "I'm so lonely. I want a mother."  
  
"That doesn't make any sense!" Molly shrieked.  
  
"I need a mother," the girl said. "I NEED A MOTHER!" she lunged on Molly, ripping her dress.  
  
Molly began to run down the corridor. "I'm getting my Daddy, he can help you," Molly said.  
  
"No!" the girl said quieting. "No, please don't tell your father. Nobody can know about me. Or else . . . or else . . ."  
  
"Or else what?" Molly asked.  
  
"They'll beat me," the girl said in a very low whisper.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The people," she said. "They come here . . . with masks . . . and cut me," she said, pulling up her nightgown sleeves to reveal several long scars.  
  
"I'll tell my daddy," Molly said. "He can help you."  
  
"No!" the girl said. "No, don't tell him!" there were footsteps coming towards them. "Run!" she said in another low whisper. "Don't let them find you!"  
  
"Who?" Molly asked.  
  
"The men with masks!" she said, pushing Molly. Molly nodded, running down the corridor, finding that there were many more hallways.  
  
"Why are you talking to yourself?" she heard a very mean voice yell.  
  
"I-I-I'm lonely," Molly heard the girl say.  
  
"And where did you get this food?" Molly brought her hands up to her mouth. She had left her orange!  
  
"I d-d-don't know," the girl said. "It was j-just there."  
  
"Things just don't appear there girl, maybe there's somebody here . . . perhaps . . . a certain little girl who lives here?"  
  
Molly knew this was her cue to run. She tore down the corridor for all she was worth and more. As soon as she went out the door, it disappeared, and she was shrieking so much she almost lost her voice. But, she knew nobody could hear her. They were all busy partying. She was as lonely as the little girl was.  
  
And she didn't have her orange.  
  
~*~  
  
"Come now," Hermione said, grabbing Molly's hand. She shared a quick kiss with Ron. "You'll be coming for Christmas, right?" she asked him.  
  
"Maybe Halloween," Ron said. "See ya, 'Mione," and they shared another kiss. Noticing the look of disgust on Molly's face, Ron broke away and swept Molly up in his arms. "Molly-kins!" he said, kissing her nose. Molly laughed, squealing in delight. "Have a nice time at Hoggy-warty-warts," he said, putting her down. Then he walked over to Amelia and hugged her.  
  
When Ron turned around, Harry was spinning Molly around and bumping noses. "Say hi to Dumbledore to me," Harry told her.  
  
"Dummy-who?" Molly asked.  
  
"Goodbye Molly," he said and he kissed her on the forehead, continuing with Hermione and Amelia.  
  
"Can I go with you Daddy?" Molly asked, hugging him.  
  
"No, sorry. Top secret Auror stuff," Harry said. "But I'll come back on Halloween."  
  
"Will you owl me everyday?"  
  
"Of course," Harry said.  
  
"Promise not to send Howlers?"  
  
"Of course not. I'll send flowers and Puking Pastilles . . ."  
  
"Daddy!" Molly scolded, and everybody laughed, except for Amelia who had no idea what Puking Pastilles were.  
  
"Well, we have to go," Ron said, and stepping outside, the two Apparated with a pop.  
  
"I guess we better get going too," Hermione said, and waved her wand. Suddenly, a giant purple double decker appeared in front of them, but wasn't labeled the 'Knight Bus' but the 'Professor Bus'.  
  
~*~ End of Chapter Four ~*~  
  
Cookies and sweets to everybody especially: The Dark Magician People (Yeah I know! Mrs. Potter will be revealed in Chapter Five.), and Mystical Witch (yep, the Woman Who Lived, I guess.) 


	5. The Other Side of Professors

Chapter Five  
  
The Other Side of Professors  
  
~*~  
  
"The Professor Bus?" Amelia asked, reading the title.  
  
"Just for one night," Hermione said. "It takes the professors to Hogwarts, and their guests too, I suppose. Then it goes to storage."  
  
"Which is probably why we're leaving two weeks early," Amelia said.  
  
"Right," Hermione said.  
  
"Now I get it," Amelia said.  
  
"Well, are you getting on or not?" the driver asked very grumpily.  
  
The three climbed on and headed to the top level of the bus. The rest of the places were already taken up with other professors who had fallen asleep.  
  
" 'Ello Mrs. Weasely!" Flitwick, the charms teacher called. "That just sounds so different on my tongue, I keep expecting Ginny Weasely to be standing there. Not that she would, I heard she's in Portugal, playing against them, right?" Hermione nodded. "And is that Molly Potter?" he asked, pulling on his nightcap. "Beautiful, beautiful. And who's the other young lady?" he motioned towards Amelia.  
  
"That's Amelia Dursley," Hermione said.  
  
"I see," Flitwick said. "Well, goodnight," and with three fast hops he jumped up into his bed. Opening her trunk, Amelia pulled out her nightgown, and snapping she was immediately in it.  
  
"Did you just . . . change your clothes with a snap?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Of course not," Amelia said, crawling into her bed. "I changed extra fast. G' night," and she closed her eyes. Sighing, Hermione and Molly walked into the bathroom to change.  
  
That night, Amelia dreamt the most vivid dream she had ever had. The air was thick with fog, and flashes of lightening. Several figures in masks were coming . . . yelling . . . screaming . . . then, there was a chant. A chant that was carried away by the air . . . and a scream.. A giant burst of light . . . and then a big, thin purple . . . something. It was parting the crowd . . . the light went away . . . and then two figures very close to each other . . .  
  
"Good morning!" a cheery Molly said, jumping on Amelia's bed.  
  
"Good morning," Amelia said back. She raised an eyebrow at Professor Flitwick who had what looked like a radio on and was stretching.  
  
"Good morning!" the radio said. "You're listening to 'Bat Bogey Blues' by the popular punk quartet, 'The Punk Pixies'!"  
  
"Good morning," Flitwick said cheerily. He was doing toe-touches, singing to the music, " 'I got the bluesey, bluest, bat bogey blues . . . I got the wailing, winging, bat bogey blues all night . . . and all day . . . and all week . . . and all month . . . and all year . . . I got the bat bogey blues . . . "  
  
Amelia turned away, she never wanted to those sides of her professors. "Ugh . . . this is going to be a long year," she groaned. Getting out of bed, she grabbed her toothbrush and a change of clothes and headed to the bathroom, Molly trailing her.  
  
"I've never been to Hogwarts before," Molly said excitedly, jumping up and down. "Auntie Hermione said she's going to show me how to ride a broom . . ."  
  
"I've never been to Hogwarts either," Amelia said, walking into a stall and changing in a few seconds. She came out and began to brush her teeth.  
  
"Auntie Hermione said I get to help her out with her classes," Molly said. "She teaches Potions."  
  
"Dat's cool," Amelia said, spitting in the sink.  
  
"You'll be able to see the castle in five minutes or so," Hermione said, popping her head in.  
  
"Ooh!" Molly squealed. "C'mon!" and she grabbed Amelia's hand. Amelia let out a little shriek as Molly dragged her away from the bathroom in mid- brush.  
  
"Whoa," Amelia said, her jaw dropping when the castle came in view.  
  
"Pretty," Molly gaped. They pulled up to the entrance, and Hermione dragged them out.  
  
~*~  
  
"That's Professor Sprout," Hermione said, pointing out the teachers at breakfast. "She teaches Herbology. Professor McGonagall, she teaches Transfiguration. Professor Vector teaches Arithmancy, Professor Chang teaches Astronomy. That's Professor Hagrid, who teaches Care of Magical Creatures. Professor Lavender, she'll be teaching Defense Against Dark Arts. And, that's Professor Dumbledore."  
  
"What does he teach?" Amelia asked, remembering him from the Ministry.  
  
"He's the Headmaster," Hermione said.  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Auntie Hermione!" Molly said, tugging on the sleeve of her robe. "Can you teach me how to fly a broom now? Please? Please? Please? AH!" she screamed as the post flew in, although it was only about twenty owls.  
  
One owl dropped a letter on Amelia's head, Hermione received a letter, as did many of the other staff. But, Molly got a letter, and then a very long package. She ripped open the letter, and read it. Then, she ripped open the package. It was a broomstick labeled, "Firebolt 6." An identical package flew down and fell onto Amelia's lap, although it was labeled the same.  
  
"Who sent those?" Hermione asked, while several of the teachers admired the brooms.  
  
"Auntie Ginny," Molly said. "I told her that you said you were going to teach me how to fly last time she visited, a week after Amelia came." Another owl flew down and dropped a package on Molly's lap, she tore that open. "Ooh! Daddy sent a letter!" and it was an adorable singing card, and a little butterfly pin. "Can we go and try to fly now, Auntie Hermione? Can we? Please?"  
  
"Of course," Hermione said. Several teachers followed them out to the Quidditch pitch to see the performance of the new brooms.  
  
~*~  
  
"Like this?" Molly asked as Hermione showed her how to hold a broom and Amelia copied. Hermione was on the back of the broom, Molly on the front, while Amelia was alone. The two rose in the air, as did Amelia.  
  
"Sayonara!" Amelia called, and flew up higher, practically less than a blur she was going so fast. Usually she was afraid of heights, but this was different, it was like she belonged in the air. Just if she had something to do, not just float there.  
  
"Catch!" Hermione called, and threw a big red ball at Amelia. Amelia caught it, and noticed that several of the professors had grabbed brooms and were now in the air. Flitwick was waving wildly on his broom.  
  
Amelia passed the ball to Flitwick, who sped off towards the big round hoops at one end. "Block it!" Hermione yelled, Molly was cheering.  
  
But, it was too late. Flitwick had thrown the ball through and was doing some sort of victory dance on his broom. Other teachers Hermione hadn't pointed out were on brooms also.  
  
"Oy! Hermione!" another person called that didn't look like a teacher at all. There were actually two people, twins. "Thought we'd drop in!" one of them called.  
  
"Is that a Firebolt 6?" one shouted.  
  
"I think it is, George!" another one said.  
  
"And is that another?" George asked. "I think I might need glasses, Fred. Or the school got new brooms, which is as impossible as Umbridge coming back. "  
  
"I think too," George said. "No . . . they both say Firebolt 6, alright.."  
  
"Uncle Fred!" Molly said, steering her broom down. "Uncle George!"  
  
"Hello, kiddy," Fred said, sweeping Molly up in his arms. George pulled out of his jacket a funny looking hat, popping it on Molly's head. In a few seconds, her head disappeared.  
  
"Hey!" Molly cried. "Not funny!"  
  
"What d' you mean?" George asked.  
  
"My head!"  
  
"Oh," Fred said. George grabbed the hat off and popped the hat back into his pocket.  
  
"Never thought I'd see Flitwick like that," George remarked, watching Flitwick's victory dance.  
  
"We were just dropping by, bringing in a treat," Fred said. "One for Molly," and he pulled out a thin metal tube. "Another for Hermione," and he pulled out a tiny gold locket. "And one for the new student you have there that set the giant crabs out," and he pulled out a tiny box of Skiving Snackboxes.  
  
"Gotta go," George said. "We're heading to America, setting up shop there, y' know."  
  
"See ya," and Fred kissed Molly on the nose, and tugged her braid, George following suit. After they left, Molly took off the top of the tube.  
  
Inside was a rose, which began to rotate and change colors. Hermione opened the locket, which began playing what sounded like nails on a chalkboard. Putting the locket in her pocket, Hermione shrunk the Skiving Snackbox and put it in her pocket.  
  
"Why aren't you giving Amelia her treat?" Molly asked.  
  
"Because you're not supposed to have them at school," Hermione said. "You're not supposed to have brooms either . . . good thing that was only when I went to school, they changed that rule a few years ago."  
  
~*~  
  
It was a day before term started, and rain was pouring down heavily. Molly was talking with the paintings, which was actually a very fun pastime. Hermione and Molly were in the library; Hermione was making lesson plans, while Amelia was practicing levitating objects.  
  
"Hermione, can I ask a question?" Amelia asked absentmindedly, making two cushions from empty armchairs attack each other.  
  
"Sure," Hermione said, who was scratching away with her quill.  
  
"Whose Molly's mom?"  
  
Hermione stopped writing and looked up, "Pardon me?"  
  
"Who is Molly's mother?" Amelia said. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to . . . I was just wondering . . ."  
  
"Oh, that's okay," Hermione said, reaching into her bag. She pulled out a picture of a young woman with wavy brown hair and bright blue eyes; it was a Muggle picture.  
  
"Was she a witch?" Amelia blurted.  
  
"Yeah," Hermione said. " This was Harry's wife, Cassidy Dumbledore. So, there's your answer," Hermione said with a sad and annoyed tone in her voice.  
  
"Well, why isn't she here now? Is she related to Professor Dumbledore?" Amelia blurted again.  
  
"Yes, she is related. She died," Hermione said. "A Death Eater killed her. Good person, Cassidy. During our sixth and seventh year, her and Harry were dating, and we went to kill Voldemort once and for all. Couldn't have done it without her, fought off all the Death Eaters while we went forward . . ." Hermione started crying.  
  
"I didn't mean to make you cry - "  
  
"No, that's okay," Hermione sniffed. "She was just a good friend of mine. Very good actually, we probably wouldn't have won without her . . . "  
  
::Flashback to Hermione's Seventh Year::  
  
They entered the damp tunnel, looking around slowly. "I'll hold off the Death Eaters back here," Cassidy said.  
  
"Are you sure you can hold them off?" Harry asked Cassidy.  
  
"Of course I can," Cassidy said as Harry kissed her forehead.  
  
"Incase one of us . . ." Harry dug into his pocket and pulled out a tiny box. Inside was a thin blue ring, which he slipped on her finger, "So you can remember me."  
  
"I didn't bring anything for you," Cassidy said. "Being a life and death situation," she unfastened her necklace, which had a ruby and gold heart on it, she tied it onto his neck. "If I die, promise you'll tell everybody I went out bravely, right?"  
  
"Right," Harry said, and kissed her again. "Are you sure you'll be alright?"  
  
"Yeah," Cassidy said, rolling her eyes. "I've got more power than you can imagine, Harry. My grandpa is Dumbledore."  
  
"Right," Harry said.  
  
"C'mon!" Ron said, grabbing Harry's arm and dragging him away. A few minutes later, they heard several shouts of spells and loud flashes from the entrance while they battled another wave of Death Eaters, although nobody else new came in.  
  
When Harry came back, Cassidy had fainted, her wand held tight in her hand. Besides the fact that Harry himself was practically dead, he picked her up and never let go of her.  
  
"Is he dead?" Cassidy asked as they walked. "Did you kill him?"  
  
"Yeah," Harry whispered in her ear.  
  
"Good," Cassidy said, grinning.  
  
"Oh, by the way," Harry said. "That was an engagement ring I gave you."  
  
Cassidy grinned wildly, "Cassidy Potter, I love it."  
  
::End of Flashback::  
  
" . . . they practically died for each other, y' know," Hermione said. "Dumbledore was straight out mad too. You don't want to see Dumbledore mad, seriously."  
  
"Why was he mad?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Because Cassidy was Dumbledore's flesh and blood, and Dumbledore never agreed to the idea of Harry and Cassidy in the first place. Still dreads the idea too, thinks it's Harry's fault that she's dead," Hermione said, wiping her eye.  
  
"Why?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Because that Death Eater killed Cassidy because she killed another Death Eater, and the only reason she was there was because Harry needed her," Hermione said, and began to pack things away. "Maybe you should go to bed now, g' night."  
  
~*~ End of Chapter Five ~*~  
  
A/N: No reviews for chapter four :( Now that you know who Molly's mom is, I started a prequel, about Harry's sixth year. It should be out after I finish this story, or when I feel like I've written enough chapters, one of the two. 


	6. The Sorting Bowler

A/N: I only noticed way after, but for the sake of the story, Flitwick isn't the Head of Ravenclaw. Why? It will be explained in later chapters.  
  
Chapter Six  
  
The Sorting Bowler  
  
~*~  
  
It was night, and the stars shone high, like lanterns in the sky. The students were pouring into the school, and Amelia had joined the first years after their ride on the Hogwarts Express, nobody noticing her. But, she felt a bit of an outcast, as everybody had already made friends, while she couldn't because she didn't ride the train.  
  
There were still black streaks in her hair from the costume party, as she hadn't been able to get the dye out before, and had grown attached to it. Naturally, Hermione had told her about the Sorting Hat, and Amelia was practically convinced she was going to be in Gryffindor, and she was pretty she wanted to be in Gryffindor too.  
  
When they got in the boats, there was only three people left who hadn't gotten into groups of four. They were Amelia, a boy with practically white hair and steely gray eyes, and a pretty short girl. So, Amelia and him got into the last boat and paddled away. Luckily, the rain from last night had subsided and the sky was perfect.  
  
"What's your name?" Amelia asked the boy.  
  
"Drake," the boy said. "Surname's Malfoy."  
  
Amelia knew she had heard that name somewhere, but she couldn't really remember . . .  
  
"What's yours?"  
  
"Oh," Amelia said. "Amelia Dursley."  
  
Drake turned to the girl, "What's your name?"  
  
"Melinda Wood," she said.  
  
"Doesn't your father play for Britain?"  
  
"Yeah, he used to play for Puddlemere," Melinda said.  
  
"Who's your mum?" Drake asked Melinda.  
  
"Ginny Weasely," she said. "She's Seeker for Britain, y' know."  
  
"I have a Firebolt 2," Drake boasted. "Can you beat that?"  
  
"My mum just sent me a prototype of the NimbusBolt," she said. "Nimbus and Firebolt are teaming up to make some decent brooms for professional teams. They're exclusive."  
  
"How about you, Amelia?" Drake asked.  
  
"I just got a Firebolt 7 prototype," Amelia said shyly.  
  
"No way!" Drake and Melinda said at the same time. "Where'd you get that?"  
  
"I got it from Ginny Weasely," Amelia said.  
  
"You're related?" Melinda asked. "I've never met you before."  
  
"Well actually, I'm not that related. I'm related to Harry Potter, whose good friends with Ron Weasely."  
  
"Oh," Drake said. "What house do you want to be in?"  
  
"I think I'm going to be in Gryffindor," Melinda said. "My whole family was in Gryffindor."  
  
"I want to be in anything but Slytherin," Drake said. "My whole bloody family has been in that house, and my whole family is bloody horrible."  
  
~*~  
  
The first years filed into the Great Hall, and Hermione and Molly waved at Amelia.  
  
"You know them?" Drake whispered into Amelia's ear.  
  
"Of course I do," Amelia said back. "I'm somewhat related to them. Hermione - she's the potion teacher is with Ron, and yeah, she lives in the same house, and Molly, who's the little girl is Harry's kid."  
  
"You know what I heard?" Melinda whispered back. "There's a curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. None of them have lasted a year since like . . . forever. The Defense Against the Dark Art teacher broke it - this is her second year."  
  
"Where is she?" Drake asked. "Which teacher?"  
  
Amelia scanned the table; "She's not here. Probably in the bathroom." Then the doors burst open and Professor McGonagall came in, her hat askew.  
  
"Who's that?" Drake whispered.  
  
"Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher," Amelia said. "Ask me about a teacher again, and I'll kill."  
  
"The Sorting Hat is missing!" Professor McGonagall said, a red envelope in her hand. "And all that was left was this Howler . . ." then, the Howler burst open, even louder because it was left alone for so long.  
  
"THE DARK LORD WILL RETURN, ALBUS, AND NOW THERE'S NO POTTER TO STOP HIM! JOIN THE DARK SIDE AND BE SPARED!"  
  
Several murmurs swept the hall, and an owl flew in, dropping a letter on Amelia's head.  
  
'Dear Amelia Potter,  
The Ministry would like to inform you the Mr. Harry Potter has adopted you into the Potter family. Ministry of Magic'  
  
Amelia must've had some look on her face, because Hermione rushed over, Molly trailing her. Hermione scanned the letter, then told Molly. "Yay!" Molly squealed. "I have a sister!"  
  
"Congratulations," Hermione said, "Welcome to the family."  
  
"Attention!" Dumbledore said. "We have lost track of the Sorting Hat, but with some quick thinking, we have found a special replacement, the Sorting Bowler!" and he pulled out a bright green and blue polka-dotted hat with several mismatched feathers in it. Nobody knew what to say, the first years looked horrified, and practically everybody else was laughing their heads off.  
  
But, besides the snickers, they put the bowler on the stool and Professor McGonagall unfolded the scroll with all the names. "Allenston, Ellen," and a little pudgy girl walked up and put the bowler on her head.  
  
"Huff - Huff- Hufflepuff!" the bowler spat, who seemed to be having a giggling fit.  
  
After a while, Professor McGonagall said, "Malfoy, Drake," Melinda and Amelia gave Drake a push forward and a thumb up. He was looking nervous, and it looked like he was about to faint.  
  
"Gryffindor!" the bowler said, laughing some more. Drake grinned, and gave Melinda and Amelia waves as he sat down at the Gryffindor table.  
  
A little while after that, Professor McGonagall said, "Potter, Amelia," and Amelia went up, putting the bowler on her head. She was glad Professor McGonagall had gotten the memo. 'Gryffindor', Amelia kept thinking. 'Please, please Gryffindor'.  
  
'No way,' a giggling voice said in her head. 'I may look stupid, but the Sorting Hat has given me words of wisdom, and one of those was never, ever put a Potter in Gryffindor. Ooh, Dumbledore's fuming, that's something you don't see very often. You're going to have a tough time, kiddo. Very, very smart I see, good brain . . ."  
  
'Please not Slytherin', Amelia was now thinking. 'Not Slytherin, please no Slytherin . . .'  
  
'Of course I'm not that dumb!' the bowler said. Amelia saw out of the corner of her eye Professor McGonagall checking her watch. 'Another rule: Never put the adopted kid of the person who killed You-Know-Who in a house full of Death Eater kids. So, I guess your smart enough, and yellow really isn't your color. Ah, blue is your favorite color, so I guess you might as well be in RAVENCLAW!"  
  
Amelia got up, walking to the Ravenclaw table. She didn't know where to sit, but some girls pulled her over before she could decide, and Amelia took note she was sitting back to back with Drake. Near the end, Melinda came and her face turned a very sick green, as if the bowler had just mentioned Slytherin. Then her face lit up when the bowler probably said Gryffindor, but in the end it was neither. "HUFFLEPUFF!" the bowler yelled. After two more people, the Sorting was over, and Dumbledore stood up to make a tiny speech.  
  
"After tonight's events, I am very sad to say our Defense Against Dark Arts professor has seemed to have vanished, but our Potions teacher - Professor Granger - has already found several candidates, and one will be arriving tomorrow morning. Quidditch practices will be held in two weeks, in the following order. Hufflepuff will have the field for them after dinner on Monday, then Gryffindor, the Slytherin, then Ravenclaw.  
  
"Also, the Forbidden Forest is of course, forbidden. Only third years and above with parental permission may go to Hogsmeade visits, and a few professors - he gestured at Hermione, a petite professor with silvery hair, and Professor Flitwick - have arranged a Christmas and summer dance, third years and their guests are invited. Skiving Snackboxes are not allowed in the premises of anywhere but your room, and I only have two words to say to you: Babushka Flobberworms! And may Amelia Potter please come to my office after dinner." Dumbledore sat down, and Amelia felt her face redden.  
  
Suddenly, the Ravenclaw table seemed to be focused around Amelia, or somewhat related to her. "Are you really related to Harry Potter?" "Why does Dumbledore want to talk to you later?" "Did you actually set giant crabs on Muggles?" "Dumbledore's in for you . . . " "You must've taken the longest time to get sorted ever, what were you doing in there, having a theory talk?" "Attention! Does anybody here have a good broom they want to lend me? A Firebolt'll do fine . . . " "My parents went to your costume party, they said you were a devil, is that true?" All in all, Amelia wasn't very happy with her meeting (with Dumbledore) afterwards.  
  
Drake didn't seem to be having a good time either, and it sounded like the Gryffindors weren't crazy about the name Malfoy. Several of them were shooting extremely nasty comments at him, and poor Drake looked like he was about to explode.  
  
"Excuse me," a girl said, tapping Amelia on the back.  
  
"Yeah?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Can you pass the mashed potatoes?"  
  
"Oh yeah, of course," Amelia said, and passed her the bowl.  
  
"My name is Penny," she said.  
  
"Amelia," Amelia said back.  
  
"Are you actually related to the Potter guy?" she asked.  
  
Amelia shrugged, "I guess."  
  
Penny tossed her long, white blonde hair over her shoulder; "I'm in third year."  
  
"I'm in first - you might've noticed that though," Amelia said, she could feel her face turning red. How could she be so stupid?  
  
"That's Alex," Penny said, pointing at a boy who was staring at the two from the other end of the Ravenclaw table. "He's in the third year too, and a Chaser with me on the Quidditch team. Serena is the Keeper, Blake and Kevin are the Beaters, Peter is the Seeker, Miranda is the reserve, and we've got an open position for the last Chaser. You should try out, but then we'd have to get you a decent broom - "  
  
"Oh, I've got one," Amelia said.  
  
"Well, that's good," Penny remarked, not even asking what kind of broom it was. "As long as it's over a Nimbus, we've got no problem. And the school hasn't even bothered to buy knew brooms, the newest ones they have are the Cleansweeps from about fifteen years ago."  
  
"Um, Penny?" Amelia said. "Can I ask a question?"  
  
"Of course," Penny said. "Shoot for it."  
  
"What's Quidditch?" Penny rolled her eyes, and she called the entire Quidditch team over to explain, which took the rest of dinner.  
  
~*~  
  
"Good luck!" Penny called, waving as Amelia parted from the crowd to head to Professor Dumbledore's office. Amelia started walking, when she remembered that she didn't know where it was. It was already past ten o' clock and she was lost in the school, hoping that someone would find her soon.  
  
"Ms. Potter!" Professor McGonagall's sharp voice said. Amelia turned around, to see a very angry Professor, her hands on her hips and fuming. Obviously, Dumbledore seemed to have spread some of the hate around. "What are you doing at this time? Curfew for first years is at eight o' clock, sharp!"  
  
"Professor Dumbledore - wanted to see me - don't know where his - office," Amelia babbled so fast Professor McGonagall only heard bits.  
  
Sighing, she grabbed Amelia by the arm and pulled her down the staircase. "You Potters seem to get dimmer and dimmer by the generation I say . . . someday a Potter will come to this school and have no brains at all . . ." Professor McGonagall scowled, as Amelia put her leg through an invisible step, and Professor McGonagall pulled her out. " . . . I suspect you'll be trying out for Quidditch . . . that was the biggest mistake I ever made . . . making Potter Seeker . . . Skiving Snackboxes," she said at a statue, and it opened. "There, and I believe that Professor Chang is making her rounds, she'll escort you back to your dormitory, I'll tell her," and she walked out.  
  
Cautiously, Amelia opened the door. Professor Dumbledore was sitting next to the fire, in a plush red chair. He didn't seem to notice Amelia entering, but was absorbed in reading a piece of parchment, and then began to scrawl an answer. Throwing in a bit of powder into the fire, he said, "Professor Weasely's office!" he roared, and threw the letter into the fire. Amelia stood in the doorway, waiting there.  
  
"Hello, Ms. Potter," Professor Dumbledore said, he said the word 'Potter' with a sharp tongue that made Amelia feel very hurt, although he put no anger in his speech. She noted a magical picture of Cassidy on his desk. "Sit down." Amelia obeyed, sitting on a chair opposite of him. "You don't have to be so straight," he said, and Amelia loosened up, if only a bit. "It has come to my attention that you are taking wandless magic training. The Ministry has sent me a letter - " he waved his wand and a piece of parchment flew over. " - and they said that there would be an inspector every month, to manage your training. Therefor, we've taken your first class of the morning - Transfiguration - and have replaced it with wandless training with Professor Weasely, whom you might recognize as Hermione."  
  
"Uh, Professor, I was wondering," Amelia said. "Then when do I take Transfiguration?"  
  
"You will be taking one-hour classes after dinner on Mondays, Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays," Dumbledore said. "And also, the Ministry, as well as the staff wants you to keep this in a secret, or at least only confide in a few people," Dumbledore finished, and a letter shot through the fire, which Dumbledore read. "Well, I think that's it, I believe Professor Chang is outside the door to escort you back."  
  
Amelia got up, and was about to leave, then she stopped. "Professor Dumbledore?"  
  
"Yes?" Professor Dumbledore asked.  
  
"Are you my . . . er . . ." Amelia tried to find out in her head how she was somewhat related to him. 'Cassidy is his grandniece, Harry married Cassidy and I'm Harry's cousin - no wait, daughter - so I'm his granddaughter . . .' she thought. "Nevermind," Amelia concluded.  
  
Dumbledore simply shrugged, "Well then, goodnight, I believe you know your way out," again, he had that somewhat sharp tone. ~*~  
  
Amelia walked to the Ravenclaw dormitory with Professor Chang, who was the head of the Ravenclaw house. Her silvery hair hung down to her waist in a long braid, and if Amelia wasn't mistaken, there was . . . confetti in her hair.  
  
"Quidditch," Professor Chang said to a statue, and it opened up to an archway, which they walked through.  
  
The Ravenclaw dormitory was packed with kids, there were drinks and sweets scattered on the tables, and what looked like a giant trampoline on the blue plush ground. People were jumping around, juggling empty bottles, and having a good time. Occasionally, one could hear a few bangs, which were probably fireworks being set off, or a game of Exploding Snap. And Professor Chang didn't even care. Amelia looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, which read 10:30.  
  
"Hey, Amelia!" Alex, one of the Chasers on the Quidditch team called. The team was hanging around, doing flips on the trampoline. They all waved her over then gave her a butterbeer.  
  
"What did Dumbledore want?" Penny asked.  
  
"I can't really tell you, not here," Amelia said.  
  
"Oh, that's cool," Penny said. "If you told Peter over there, he'd blab it to everybody," Penny snorted; Peter was the Seeker of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team.  
  
Before the party had started, it seemed although it had ended. Right when the clock chimed twelve, Professor Chang waved her wand, and immediately every thing disappeared with a pop. None of the older students seemed sad or disappointed; in fact, they just started heading upstairs. Amelia headed began to head up the stairs, when Professor Chang grabbed her arm.  
  
"Don't forget your lessons. Oh, and say hi to Harry for me," she smiled and ushered Amelia upstairs. Amelia changed into her pajamas, then climbed into bed. Again, she started having funny dreams. (A/N: The dreaded dreams)  
  
It was a sunny day . . . people were running . . . screaming . . . Then, the clouds were covered . . . lightning . . . fog . . . cloaked figures . . . falling . . . somebody was falling! Running . . . in the castle . . . to the forest . . . hiding in the bushes . . . blast of light . . . shrieking . . . stopped . . . roaring engine . . .  
  
"Hey!" somebody was looming over Amelia. "Wake up!"  
  
"Wh-what?" Amelia asked. "Huh?"  
  
"Did you see what was happening?" the girl asked.  
  
"Uh, n-no, I was sleeping," Amelia said.  
  
"Your eyes were wide open," the girl said. She sounded extremely rude; "Nobody sleeps with their eyes open."  
  
"No, they were closed," Amelia said. "You were hallucinating."  
  
"Everything was flying around the room, crashing and banging," the girl said.  
  
Amelia looked around. Everything was the same, there was nothing there. "There's nothing different."  
  
The girl looked around. "But . . . but . . . I saw something! It was like a wasteland!"  
  
"There's nothing there," Amelia said. "Go back to bed."  
  
The girl went back to her bed across from Amelia's and Amelia noted the name on her trunk. It looked like it was made out of gold, entire gold and carved into it was the name: Serafina. Amelia couldn't get to sleep that night; she didn't want to go back to that dream.  
  
It was hell what she was seeing. Complete chaos, and just the thought of it sent shivers down her spine. And what the girl - Serafina - had said that she had seen things. Amelia took a glance at the rest of her roommates; they were all sleeping, even Serafina. So Amelia just lay down, doing nothing, staring at the cloud-painted ceiling, hoping the day would come.  
  
~*~ End of Chapter Six ~*~ 


	7. Surprises At School

A/N: Again, not one of my best chapters.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
Surprises At School  
  
~*~  
  
Amelia woke up (after finally falling asleep), to an empty dormitory. She lay there for a few seconds then shot up in bed, the covers flinging off of her. She had slept in! Hastily, she threw on her school robes, tying her hair in a messy ponytail and fumbling with her tie. Taking a peek in the mirror before she grabbed her books and ran down the stairs. Climbing out of the statue, Amelia ran down the corridor - that was, until she remembered that she didn't know how to get to the Great Hall.  
  
"Great," Amelia said grumpily, eyeing a portrait of a knight who was waving his sword frantically at her.  
  
"What puts you fair maiden so mediocre on a gallant day?" the knight demanded, jumping off his horse and giving a clumsy bow.  
  
"Do you know where the Great Hall is?" Amelia asked the knight.  
  
"Alas!" the knight said. "A quest! Come my fair maiden, let Sir Cardigan (A/N: Is that his name? I forgot) lead the way!" and he galloped through the portraits, Amelia following him.  
  
The two ran down the corridors, the knight waving his sword at a pair of ballerinas having biscuits and knocking them down, then giving a very dramatic 'squabble' with a group of trolls. "The Great Hall, fair maiden," Sir Cardigan said, giving another clumsy bow.  
  
"Right," Amelia said. "Thanks . . . oh great . . ." the students began to file out to go to their classes.  
  
"Amelia!" Alex shrieked, sprinting through the crowd.  
  
"Yes?" Amelia asked.  
  
"Here's your schedule," he said, handing her a piece of parchment.  
  
"Er . . . thanks," Amelia muttered as, for some reason Alex began to turn a very deep shape of crimson. "Well . . . bye . . . right . . ." and she walked into the crowd, taking a glance at her schedule.  
  
Amelia headed down to the dungeons - a very gloomy place, indeed - where Hermione (Professor Weasely, she corrected herself) was teaching Potions. Sitting down at a desk in the front row, Amelia took the spare time to fix her hair correctly while she waited. And waited. And waited even more. She began to wonder if she had gotten the wrong dungeon . . . or maybe Dumbledore had said something different . . . Then the bell rang and Amelia went to Charms.  
  
Walking up the staircase to the Charms classroom was quite lonely, everybody chatting animatedly with friends, and there she was - Amelia Potter (not even for a whole official day), horribly confused and befuddled, and well . . . dumb looking. She could imagine at her old school (which she was extremely popular at), laughing at the kid walking down the hallway all alone, who blushed and hugged their books closer to them, looking at the floor. Now she was that kid.  
  
She knew the entire Quidditch team, but they were all in different years. There was Serafina - whom she didn't want to be friends with - and Drake and Melinda, who were in different houses. Amelia sat down in the back of the classroom while Professor Flitwick took roll call.  
  
As roll call was took, Amelia learned the names of her classmates. The person sitting to her left was Pierre Patil, who had shoulder-length hair done in a messy ponytail - she noticed that Serafina kept sneaking glances at him (as did several other girls). To her right was Matilda Clearwater, at a glance she could tell that Matilda was incredibly neat and organized. With her perfect posture, perfectly ironed robes, perfect hair in a perfect braid down her perfect back, and the perfect height - about half a foot taller, making her look like a fourteen year old than an eleven year old.  
  
Professor Flitwick continued with a lecture on Charms, then made Pierre's hat zoom around the room, and afterwards put them in pairs so they could practice Lumos - which would make light appear at the end of their wands - and Nox - which would put out the light.  
  
Just by coincidence, Amelia was paired with Pierre, and therefor was receiving glares from several of her (female) classmates. And to add to her problems - there was no other way to say it - Pierre was very . . . flirty - especially with Serafina. It was getting on Amelia's nerves. Pierre was waving his wand carelessly in the air; mumbling words and shooting looks over his shoulder at Serafina - nearly blasting out Amelia's eye at one point.  
  
Finally, at the end of class, Pierre went straight over to Serafina, and Amelia's eye now felt safe from harm. But people were still looking at her. First, there was Matilda Clearwater, who kept looking at her extremely strangely for some farfetched reason. Then there was Alex and his group of friends who she had never met yet, who kept staring at her as she headed down to Herbology and Alex went to Care of Magical Creatures.  
  
In Herbology, the class didn't do much but make sketches of Gumbleweed, a mess of white weeds with little tentacles waving around in the air. After, the first years had a free period, which most of them spent in the common room lounging with friends. Not that Amelia exactly had any friends in the first year in Ravenclaw, so she went to the library to do her Herbology homework ("The Five Uses of Gumbleweed").  
  
Then, she luckily ran into Melinda Wood, who was also in the library, looking up her History of Magic homework (" Summarize The Ways of the Magical Community, 1200-1205").  
  
"Hey," Melinda muttered, scribbling down a note from the book in front of her.  
  
"Hi," Amelia said back sitting down across from Melinda and reading over her notes.  
  
"How's your day going?" Melinda asked.  
  
"Weird," Amelia muttered, lowering her voice so it was below a whisper as Madam Pince passed by.  
  
"What?" Melinda asked in her normal voice, and therefor received a bickering Madam Pince for the next five minutes.  
  
"Weird," Amelia said again after Madam Pince left.  
  
"Weird what?" Melinda asked.  
  
"My day," Amelia said.  
  
"What about your day?" Melinda asked, scribbling down more of her homework.  
  
"My day was weird," Amelia said.  
  
"Oh," Melinda said in a voice that sounded like she was more immersed in the text in front of her than the person she was talking with. So the two continued in silence, occasional asking each other questions about what words meant, or if a certain sentence made sense.  
  
Then, after the free period the two walked down to lunch together, Matilda Clearwater following them a few yards behind.  
  
Melinda shot a glance at Matilda, who had her nose up in the air. "Who's that?" she asked.  
  
"Matilda Clearwater," Amelia answered.  
  
"She's in your house?" Melinda asked.  
  
"Yeah," Amelia said. "My year."  
  
"First year?" Melinda breathed. "What'd she do, fail for the past three or so years?"  
  
"No," Amelia said. Then she paused for a moment, "I think."  
  
"You think that she would get it after the second year then," Melinda said. "My mum told me that they just do the same curriculum every year. It's not that hard. Same reports, same subjects, same lectures, over, and over, and over . . ."  
  
"Except for Defense Against the Dark Arts," Amelia pointed out.  
  
"Right," Melinda said. "But how do you know . . . what if they have lesson plans that the professors follow, and the lectures and tests all prepared . . . " She continued with the theory all the way down to the Great Hall (which was a long time since they lost their way five times).  
  
Only when they came to the entrance did they split up to go their separate tables, and Amelia was hailed over by Penny and her usual rather large group of friends. Happens to be, they had a new subject to talk about - the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers. And it just happened to be Amelia was all the reason to be the center of attention.  
  
"Have you been to Defense Against the Dark Arts yet?" one of Penny's friends asked.  
  
"No . . ." Amelia said, wondering where this was going. "Why do you want to know?"  
  
The group burst into laughter, and Amelia felt the blood rise in her cheeks. She wondered if she was a bit slow to not get what was going on.  
  
"Do you want to know who the professors are?" Alex questioned.  
  
"Okay . . ."  
  
Alex began to speak, "The professors are - Hey!" Penny had pressed her hand against his mouth.  
  
"We'll tell her later," Penny said, shooting glances at the rest of the group. "If she doesn't find out who the professors are by the end of lunch, which is highly unlikely."  
  
Amelia wondered what they were talking about. "Why would it be highly unlikely - "  
  
"Hello!" a certain familiar person said, smothering Amelia in a hug.  
  
'That makes sense' Amelia thought. 'No wonder it was unlikely.'  
  
"You're - suffocating - me - " Amelia said through pained breaths as she was smothered in yet another hug. "Geroff - "  
  
"We're the new Defense Against the Dark Arts - " the second hugger announced.  
  
"Professors," Amelia ended the sentence for them. "I've - noticed - Geroff - me - help - "  
  
"How's school been going?" the first hugger asked.  
  
"It's - only - been - two - days," Amelia gasped. "Since - the - term - started - "  
  
"Ah, yes," the second hugger said. "But you've been here for two weeks."  
  
"Right," Amelia said, and finally pushed her huggers off. "That's like me asking how your two weeks were on a top sec - " then a hand flew over her mouth to stop her from talking.  
  
"Not here," the first hugger said.  
  
"Whatever, Harry," Amelia said after he took his hand off her mouth.  
  
"Professor Potter," Harry corrected her.  
  
"Right . . ." Amelia said. "Where's Hermione?" she asked, turning to Ron.  
  
"Professor Granger now," Ron corrected her again. "And well . . . why she isn't here . . . the matters are appropriate to talk about in front of all you children."  
  
Harry was struggling to keep a straight face. "Of course, Dumbledore didn't trust Ron and I to run the class, so we brought reinforcements," he dragged out the word 'reinforcements' as if they were all extremely slow.  
  
"Oops!" a person with short bubble-gum pink hair said, tripping over the corner of the Gryffindor table. "Sorry!" she said, adjusting the person's robes she had grabbed in her fall. Limping over to the two professors, she extended a hand at Amelia.  
  
"Meet Nymphadora Tonks," Harry said.  
  
"Tonks," Tonks said. "Professor Tonks. Drop the Nymphadora, throw it in the trash." She let go of Amelia's hand and massaged the spot where she had hit the table.  
  
After lunch, Amelia was happy that Harry was a professor, but that happiness didn't last long. In fact, it basically lasted for half of History of Magic, taught by Professor Binns. Notes were being passed around, all about Harry Potter and all the "cool" things he had done.  
  
As more rumors or tales that were told, the more people thought Amelia was somehow a superwitch (even though she was adopted and was only Harry's cousin otherwise). By the end of History of Magic, she was dreading the next class - Defense Against the Dark Arts.  
  
So, Amelia sat in the back of the class next to Drake, an extremely bad feeling in the pit of her stomach. But it happened to be; the class wasn't half-bad. It was fully horrendous. They were learning about vampires, and Harry and Ron did a little reenactment of a vampire slaying, Ron being the vampire and Harry being the hunter. It wasn't much of a lesson to all of them, but more of a joke. And personally to Amelia it was quite embarrassing.  
  
By the day was finished, Amelia didn't exactly know if her life was any better than when she hadn't known about magic.  
  
Back when she was like any other Muggle, she had dozens of friends (especially one wonderful best friend), and even though her parents were a bit annoying, they weren't that embarrassing.  
  
But there was no turning back now.  
  
End of Chapter Seven  
  
~*~ 


	8. The Difference Between a Potter and an A...

A/N: This is a slightly short chapter because I wrote chapter seven and eight in one day, being I'm always bored.  
  
~*~  
  
Chapter Eight  
  
The Difference Between a Potter and an Amelia  
  
~*~  
  
The days passed, and Amelia fell into a certain schedule. She ate breakfast, had wandless magic training with Hermione (Professor Granger, she corrected herself), went to Charms, then Herbology, had a free period, lunch, History of Magic, Defense Against the Dark Arts (which was turning out dreadful), Potions, and then did homework in the library with Melinda. After dinner she went down to Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall, and once every Wednesday she went to Astronomy at midnight.  
  
Amelia did make new friends though - actually, one to be exact. Celia Warner, another first year who shared a dormitory with her. They had beds next to each other, and both thought their other two roommates, Serafina and Matilda, were quite freaky.  
  
She basically stayed with Celia all day; Melinda during breaks Penny, Alex, and their friends occasionally at meals and in the common room, and Drake Malfoy before dinner. Drake and Amelia shared one thing that nobody else shared - they both hated 'Professor Potter' to some degree.  
  
But Drake had different reasons of course (being that Harry Potter was not his cousin, adoptive father, and worried about Harry making a big fool of him). Drake disliked them because they disliked well . . . him.  
  
All three professors didn't like Drake, and Amelia thought it was quite rude due to the fact that they treated him different because of his surname. Personally, she thought Drake was one of the best people she had ever met in her whole life.  
  
"I would rather be you," Drake argued with Amelia one day as they lounged on the shore of the lake, Amelia absentmindedly tickling the tentacles of giant squid.  
  
"And I would rather be you," Amelia pointed out. "You don't have the person everybody says is your dad making a fool of himself."  
  
"He basically is your dad," Drake said.  
  
"Adoptive," Amelia said.  
  
"Do you really hate Professor Potter that much?" Drake asked. "I would kill for somebody with a dad like that."  
  
"Like what?" Amelia asked. "A person who acts big-headed and thinks everything is a joke - "  
  
"But he doesn't hate you," Drake said. "My parents hate me."  
  
"Well I hate him," Amelia scowled, now picking at a blade of grass as the giant squid had retreated back into the lake. "Do you know that everybody expects me to make it on the Quidditch team? And somehow to become Seeker, which is impossible, because Ravenclaw already has a Seeker . . ."  
  
"But - "  
  
"And Harry's obsessed about Quidditch, too," Amelia continued; now picking out blades of grass. "He thinks I'm going to relive his Quidditch glory days - which I'm not - and he doesn't even notice that I'm not him. I swear, he's a right on - " Drake placed a hand over Amelia's mouth to stop her from talking.  
  
"Have you ever played Quidditch?" Drake asked.  
  
"Yes . . . a bit . . ." Amelia said. "With some of the professors during the summer."  
  
"Did you like it?"  
  
"A lot," Amelia answered, still picking at the grass.  
  
"Then why don't you want to play Quidditch? I've heard the Gryffindor Quidditch team talking, they think you have Harry's talent and are actually doubting that if you get on the Ravenclaw team they might have some problems," Drake said. Penny had seen Amelia playing around with the Quaffle one day, and had offered her a spot as Chaser on the Ravenclaw team.  
  
"That's what I mean!" Amelia said a bit loudly, throwing a clump of grass into the lake. "Harry's talent! Why can't if be my talent? Or Dursley talent? Or Potter talent? Why is it Harry's talent?"  
  
"So you just want to do stuff Professor Potter doesn't do?"  
  
"Yes!" Amelia said, throwing another clump of grass into the lake. "But Harry Potter's done everything! He's stopped that whats-his-name person - Voldemort - seven times, has become the greatest Seeker in the whole history of Hogwarts - also being on a Quidditch team in his first year, the first to do so in a century! Then there's a bunch of other records and all that stuff from school, he's been the youngest person to get the First Order of Merlin - "  
  
"I get it," Drake said.  
  
"And no matter what I do, Harry's done it all before, and if anybody else had done that it would've been all wonderful and record-breaking. But if a Potter does something, it's just normal," Amelia finished. They were silent for about half a minute, Amelia still absentmindedly picking at the grass.  
  
"You're not a Potter," Drake said quietly.  
  
"What?" Amelia asked.  
  
"You're not a Potter," Drake said. "You're Amelia."  
  
"What's the difference?" Amelia said with a bitter tongue.  
  
"A Potter has done everything and anything and hates Malfoys," Drake said. "And Amelia hates Harry Potter, wants to do everything and anything and likes Malfoys."  
  
"And what happens when you put the two together?" Amelia asked.  
  
"I dunno," Drake said. "You get to decide."  
  
And that was when Amelia had decided that Drake was not only the best person in the world, but the sweetest. Suddenly, she felt a bit emotional, and her eyes began to pool up . . . and it started to rain. Rain extremely hard, and even if she was crying, nobody would be able to tell.  
  
So, the two ran back to the castle before they got any wetter, laughing the whole way.  
  
What they didn't know was that Harry Potter had watched and heard the whole conversation from his office window.  
  
Meanwhile, the two ran into the Entrance Hall, now soaking wet, as the rain was now hitting even harder. Amelia had caused the whole thing, and she knew it. Not that she really cared that she had done it.  
  
But the two didn't notice that their shoes and the hems of their robes were soaked with mud, and that they had left a trail of mud through the hall. They did notice though Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, see them and go away.  
  
Drake let out a string of colorful words. "I'm running, you?" He was referring to running from the spot of the 'crime'.  
  
Amelia thought for a few moments. She knew that no matter what Filch would find them, and she came up with a wonderful plan. Screwing up her eyes, a drop of sweat falling down her face, she quickly wiped away the mud. "Why?" Amelia asked a bit quietly. It was the biggest task she had performed with wandless magic since she had come to Hogwarts and had worn her out.  
  
"The mud - it was - "Drake looked around, utterly confused. "Nevermind."  
  
"I'm going to lock them up by their toes . . ." they heard Filch mutter and coming from another corridor.  
  
Drake let out several other swear words, and then he pointed at the broom closet across the hall. They both ran for it, Filch's form now appearing, and dived into the broom closet, closing the door behind them.  
  
Unfortunately for them, it was a very tiny broom closet. And you could only imagine what it was like, being locked in a closet, and wondering what would happen if somebody found you. Lucky for them though, because they weren't found and Filch left soon.  
  
Then they heard a group of people coming through the Entrance Hall, and the two waited for their time to get out when the Entrance Hall was empty. It was extremely uncomfortable in the closet, and when the two were put up with pressing against the brooms and cleaning supplies far to stay far enough from each other.  
  
Then, in the extreme dark, Amelia felt Drake's arms wrap around her in a hug and whisper in her ear. "I bet you Harry Potter never did this."  
  
Then, a fraction of a second later, the broom closet door swung open, and the last people they wanted to see were standing there, looking at Drake Malfoy hugging Amelia Potter.  
  
And those two people were Hermione and Ron Weasely.  
  
(Professor Granger and Professor Weasely, Amelia reminded herself)  
  
End of Chapter Eight 


End file.
